


There and Back Again

by KryHeart_Ardy



Series: The Strides We Make [3]
Category: Overlord (Triumph Video Games), RWBY
Genre: Drug Use, Dune freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KryHeart_Ardy/pseuds/KryHeart_Ardy
Summary: The Great Cataclysmic has destroyed the domain of the Overlord. The Glorious Empire reigns victorious. Meanwhile Ruby has withdrawn from the world with only Qrow to help her with her twin children.





	1. Alive and Dead

Four farmers peered down into the crater, it had taken them days to work up the courage and to find a wagon. They had rather hoped that the individual they were staring at would have gotten up and walked away by then. Only he had not, each breath looked like agony, his amour was mostly destroyed bits and pieces hanging off of him. The magic explosion that had created the Wasteland was creeping towards them.

The largest of them, still small compared to the dying man in the crater gathered up his courage and scrambled carefully down the embankment. He approached his Overlord carefully, but the large man didn’t even stir. Hesitantly he grabbed a piece of chest armour, the straps broke with ease and he set it aside. Spurred on by their leaders courage the other farm hands slid down into the crater to help. They pulled the armour away, then what remained of his clothes. They had to snuggle him out of the region, fancy clothes would draw to much attention. One wrapped his cloak around Oz’s waist.

A breath larger then before came, a horrible rattling wheezing sound. They shivered, it was a dying man’s breath, with the armour gone burn welts oozed pus and were cracked open black. Purple was the dominant colour of his chest, cuts and wounds covered much the rest of him. They leader pulled off his cloak and set it down beside Ozpin and with a great heave the four worked together to get him onto it. Again together they worked to carefully pull him out of the crater.

They hauled him up into the cart and stacked bags and boxes of produce around him. Two sat in the back and two in the front, the little donkey pulled the heavy wagon forward. Only just outpacing the wild magic that was consuming and twisting anything that came into it’s path. They were forced north west, the Wasteland was baring the way to the desert, they only way they could go was towards the Empire and hope for the best.

The Empire had not brought all of it’s forces to bare on the Overlord. They were forced to travel slowly and the farther from the Wasteland they got the more soldiers they met till one day they were stopped on the road.

The little band of soldiers was leaderless, worn and ragged. But their weapons were sharp and hungry bellies made men do horrible things. As they raided and looted they found the sleeping man, his wounds festering away.

The Farmers didn’t understand the words of the Imperials, only that they were bound together with rope and forced to walk alongside the cart. Even with the language barrier the word ‘slave’ was very clear.

 

* * *

Ozpin cracked his eyes open, fatigue and pain dragged at him. He took a breath and the wheezing sound he made was alien to him. A heavy metal collar was tight against his neck and he looked himself over, one of his feet was covered in white chalk. Otherwise he was nude, his skin crawled and he looked down at his leg and would have vomited if there had been anything in his stomach to vomit. Maggots twisted and turned in his leg, eating the dead flesh.

The increase in wheezing breaths must have been heard because suddenly a man with green hair and brown eyes was sitting next to him. “Easy, easy, you’ll only cause yourself more harm if you panic.” He reached up and pulled the heavy collar off. “Why your current master is so keen on you wearing that I will never know. I’m a Doctor, here with my Master. Please can you tell me anything about yourself? I am sure you are an exotic southerner but your Master is swearing blue otherwise.”

Ozpin blinked up at the man, he wore a red tunic, breeches and sandals. Behind him Oz saw a slowly spinning table with nude men and woman with placards around their necks. People were packed into the market square the shouting was muted in his ears. The Doctor took his silence and started to talk again. “I understand you must be trying to orientate yourself. You are in the Sysloly City of the Empire, furthermore you are in the  Slave Market to be bought if your Master will get stop overpricing you so horrendously. What is your name? Where are you from?”

_ I am a slave? _ Ozpin’s thoughts were sluggish, pain was making it hard to think. He couldn’t give his name, Tai should be in the Empire though… “I am Fremen, deep desert by my mother of the family Atreides. My father was a northman beyond that I do not know him.”

“Atreides? I’ve read about them, I thought they were extinct.” The Doctor looked confused.

“Just hidden, not needed.” Ozpin said his voice thick with phlegm, he tired to breathe again only to start to cough. The Doctor moved quickly, helping to brace Oz as he coughed thick yellow mucus into the sand.

“I see.” The Doctor said and asked again. “What is your name?”

“Hawk.” Ozpin offered as the symbol of his house was a red hawk.

“Fitting. What are you trained as? From your hands and what remains of your build I’d gave put forth my guess that you were a warrior.” The Doctor said.

“Yes.” Ozpin croaked sagging back against the pole he had been chained too. He just wanted to stop and die.

“Bart! Stop getting blood and pus all over your new tunic!” A bellowing voice said as the owner walked over.

“Apologizes Master, but I was right he is an exotic. A Fremen too boot. I did not think you wanted your prize to drown in his own fluids.”

Meaty fingers grabbed Ozpin’s chin and lifted him up. His eyes watered and he barely saw the face, dark brown eyes and a thick grew mustache. “Ah Ha! I knew I was right! Shame he’s in such a state though.”

“He was a fighter Master, I believe if you purchased him I will be able to heal him and triple his worth.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Hawk, Master of the Fremen house Atreides.”

Ozpin let his eyes slide closed, just being awake was so hard.

“Then that will be his brand.”

 

* * *

 

Cool air drifted over his cheeks as Ozpin slowly opened his eyes. His body still felt hot and feverish but the pain had dwindled. His eyes tracked slowly around the room, stone walls were hidden behind large drapes, tables littered with medical equipment. He forced himself to look down and was almost relieved when he found himself with bandages around his wounds rather then them open and raw. He breathed deeply and found with some surprise that he could.

“Ah, you have awoken Hawk. My Master was getting concerned that you would not. Man can long live on honey milk and broth for only so long.” The tall green haired doctor sat down on a stool beside him. “My name is Bartholomew Oobleck and you are the property of my Master Peter Port. He owns many gladiatorial slaves a group that you will become a part of.”

Ozpin blinked a little stunned, he could actually think clearly now. How had he gotten here? He was a slave now? Where was Ruby and Qrow? Did Taiyang know he was here? Did everyone think he was dead? “When was the war with the Overlord ended?”

“Near four months ago.” Bart offered and started unwrapping a bandage on Ozpin’s right forearm.

_ How am I even alive? I haven’t eaten in all that time? _ “Where are we now?” Ozpin asked.

“My Master’s villa. It was the closest place to take you for extended care. Though now that you are awake I imagine we will make for the Imperial City.” Oobleck studied his masterful stitches.

“How far away is that?” Oz asked again.   
“Near a year's journey. It was only at my argument that we stopped here. I doubted you would have survived if I was forced to treat you upon the road. Thankfully my Master recognizes my skills, sometimes I think the only reason he has not freed me is because he would miss me.” Bart sighed, Peter was a good Master but he would enjoy having property of his own. 

“I suppose I should thank you then.” Ozpin reached out and tentatively touched his chest. His ribs screamed in protest instantly.

“Ah! No touching, you have several fractures and it's the sheer luck of the gods that the ones that broke didn't pierce anything.” Bart grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

_ More like what magic I have.  _ On that thought Oz reached for his magic and found… nothing. Panic coiled in him again, no magic of any type. Not his own, not the Overlords, he reached up and pulled a stand of hair down where he could see it. Black, void black,  _ not Ruby's. _ Oz took the biggest breath he dared and let it out with a shuddering gasp. No magic holding him together, the pool of power he was so used to reaching for was empty. No not empty gone, vanished.

Bart continued talking obvious to Oz's discovery. “If you've civil I'm sure the Master will let you ride with me, rather then walking with the other slaves. Think you can do that? I understand that many new slaves feel the need to rebel initially but you are in no state to do that.”

Ozpin wasn't sure what to make of any of this, he was a slave. His magic had gone dormant… not unlike how Ruby's had shut down after he had... He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, now was not the time to go down that path again. He took another breath pain burning through his chest and took a moment to focus on his doctor. “As you say, I'm not fit to go anywhere.”

 

* * *

 

“Ruby.” Qrow sat beside her, they had been moved to their own private room. “The twins are hungry, you need to get up.” He touched her shoulder, she so rarely moved or spoke. “Please, they are crying and need you.” Qrow gently slid a hand under her shoulder and pulled her upright setting her against the headboard. Her eyes looked so dull.

He got up and rushed to the cradle, Amber was crying the loudest he gently scooped her up and took her to Ruby setting the babe on her chest then pulling the laces of her bodices apart. Amber knew what to do after that and the babe at her breast sank into Ruby’s brain just enough for her to cradle her child, to support her as she nursed. Qrow now sure that Ruby would hold her returned the the cradle and picked Leto up. Again he moved back to Ruby rocking Leto trying to get the elder twin to be quiet. “Shhh, just wait your turn.”

The room was very cool, the warm dusty brown walls had rugs hung upon them to reduce the echoes. It was a good room, in spite of his bloodline and his role as the one to look after Ruby. She was a Silver Eyed Warrior after all… even if word had gotten out that she was broken. Leto quieted as Qrow’s attention and Amber finished, Qrow carefully switched the babies. Grabbing a towel to put over his shoulder as he put Amber against his chest and started to tap her back walking around the room trying to work out if she needed a burp.

Ruby smiled vacantly as Leto nursed. He had silver eyes, Amber was the one with Oz’s eyes and they both had his hair. Tears gathered in her eyes at his memory, the trauma of the severing of their link had devastated her mind and magic. The sensation of Leto suckling at her breast was one she had gotten used too. It had been several weeks, unlike his sister he usually drained one breast entirely then switch to the other to finish anything his sister had left. Ruby knew to switch him, when he let her nipple go.

Amber finally burped but thankfully didn’t throw anything up. Qrow checked her diaper again but it was still clean, he returned her to the bed and set her down on her tummy. She looked up at her mom able to lift her head and pull at the bedding. There was no babble yet but she still liked to wiggle on her tummy. Leto finished and snuggled down on his mom’s chest. Qrow sat down beside Amber and turned her onto her back. She giggled and grabbed at Qrow’s fingers and he let her catch and pull at them. “You should eat something.” Qrow said looking up to Ruby as Amber gummed on his thumb.

Ruby shook her head, she was never hungry anymore. Qrow’s smile at Amber’s play died, but then he forced it on his lips again and picked Amber up and took her over to Ruby. He sat Amber up to lean against Ruby’s thigh. “Well you should eat anyway.” He got off the bed and walked over to a side table, it had a small tray of food. Bread, fruit and a little meat. “You don’t have the weight to lose and you’ve milk to make.”

He spread a little goat butter on a piece of bread and offered it too her. “Come on please. Just a little bit.”

Ruby sighed but took the bread from him, watching Amber as she tried to grasp and pull at Ruby’s gown. Those little hands were getting good at grabbing. She barely noticed as she finished the bread, or when Qrow just kept handing her more food and she ate it. Qrow didn’t bother to try and smile as Ruby ate. She wasn’t looking at him after all. He knew that Ozpin was dead, that she felt it too. She hadn’t spoken since giving birth, he didn’t know how to help her. He kept her fed, clean, took her for walks when the twins were sleeping. Nothing he did thought brought that light back to her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ardy: So this one will be paced MUCH slower then the other two. Those ones held pretty tight to the first Overlord game and DLC. There is around 15-19 years between Overlord one and two, while this story won't cover that much time. It will be much slower with many time-skips.


	2. Vacancy

    The sun blanched the cobbled stone road, Ozpin could almost hear it. Other sounds bothered him, the creak of the wheels as the wagon trundled on. The endless click and clatter of iron chains. The heat made his hair plaster to his skull as rivets of sweat ran down his body. Still he was a far sight better than those who walked beside him. Their dirty tunics and shackled hands. Oz drew his eyes away, his own tunic only went to his mid thigh and he was still held together by bandages. Which was why he got to ride rather then walk.

    It was hard to understand to his feverish brain, to go from a king for all intensive purposes to not even being his own person. Just an object to be traded, to be used. He glanced up at the sun, he hated it. It was nothing like the one of the desert, the air waved about it. Was Ruby alright? Did his children live? Or had she and they died in labour? A foreign pain twisted in his heart, well foreign compared to the rest of the physical pain. It killed him not to know.

    The metal bars dug into his back as he closed his eyes again. It was so humid, it was strange to him. Sure he had spent time in Heaven’s Peak and Everlight Forest, but not much all things considered. He was used to dry desert air and it felt cooler and more comfortable to him then this did. He reached for his magic again, the empty echo inside of him only stared back. He turned his head and gazed out through foggy eyes.

    He remembered that Ruby had lost her magic after the Overlord had hurt her. Had the same thing happened to him? Had the trauma at being in the centre of a magical cataclysm caused his magic to flee like hers had? To nurse it’s wounds? He knew that magic was alive, a symbiotic relationship being magic and mage. Had he traumatized his magic into regression? Ozpin rubbed to dry fingers together. Nothing not even a spark.

    Again his mind was pulled to her. Had he lost his connection to Ruby because she had died? Had that whip lashed through his magic, hurt it? Without his magic he couldn’t escape, would heal like mortal how close would they be to the Empire City by the time he healed?

    With a shuddering sigh he looked back to that bleached white road, he had no idea how to get home. Or where he was in relation to home. His only hope was that Taiyang or Raven found him, or maybe the Minions, he had moved them after all. They should be safe in the Netherworld tower, thus in a position to look for him. Still there was no telling how long that would take.

    The tall man tenderly touched his side, he still hurt on so many levels. Ozpin had never appreciated how quickly mages could heal before, to have that taken from him. To heal like a normal mortal was an eye opening experience. His eyes drifted shut again, pain was both jaring with each bump in the road and lulling as he was always exhausted now. Oz was just drifting off again when the door to the slave cart creaked loudly on its hinges. The cart rocked with the sheer weight being added and Oz’s eyes snapped open.

    “Now be careful with that leg Hazel. You should be thankful my Master allowed me to remove the anti-magic shackles long enough for your tendons to heal.” Bart said as the giant known as Hazel Rainart.

    The cart rocked again as Hazel settled his enormous strong mass. “I know doctor.”

    Bart nodded and tapped on the side of the cage, blue runes flared up along the bars.

    Ozpin felt sick all at once, his stomach rebelled and he barely turned over in time to throw up over through the bars. _Oh Gods what is this?_ Oz vomited till he dry heaved, a big hand held his hair back, another pet along his back.

    Bart panicked reaching through the bars to touch Oz’s feverish face. “I will get some water, try to calm him!” He raced off up the train of wagons.

Hazel however was perfectly calm. “Deep breaths.” He said softly then in a voice almost a whisper. “Calm your magic before it betrays you. If you can’t calm it, force it down into you so that you seem mortal, the anti-magic field won’t make you as sick.”

Oz heaved gathering enough breath to say. “I hurt my magic, I can’t find.”

That made the massive man pause. “Then… think about something that calms you. Home, a smell, a sound. Something ingrained into your mind.”

Ozpin’s stomach clenched painfully but lacking any other direction he did as he was told. He closed his eyes tight and tried to shut out the humidity, the awful heat. He tried to remember the Sietch, the cool air the sound of the water traps, the winds lulling song through the tunnels. He tired to sink into the visualization and slowly the nausea fade into the back of his mind. He thought of Ruby, of her beauty of her in flight. How she would come to him, the sweet scent of roses flowing over him the softness of her feathers. By the time he opened his eyes Bart had returned with a water skin of diluted wine a wooden bowl of pottage. The sight of the pale brown gruel with bits of leafy greens almost made Oz sick again. What he wouldn’t give for a piece of Spice bread.

Hazel drew Oz’s up and helped him to lean back against the bars. The bars felt like they were burning him now. Hazel grabbed the small bladder and tipped a very small amount of liquid into Oz’s mouth. He dipped his head down, speaking near silently while stroking down Oz’s throat. “Think of your lie fast.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Bart was surprised by the care Hazel was showing. The giant was known to be kind but this was odd.

“Yeah,” Oz croaked coming back to himself enough to take the wine from the brown eyed man. “I think this heat is finally getting to me, Spice withdrawl is probably not helping.”

“You did not mention you were eating Spice.” Bart said fiddling with his satchel.

Ozpin managed to gather enough willpower to mock glare. “Spice is in everything in the desert, it’s just a matter of how much. I was Sietch Fremen. It was in everything I ate. I think my body is finally noticing that it’s not getting anymore Spice.”

Bart chewed on his bottom lip then pulled a very small box out from his satchel. While he walked along side he opened the box and took only a pinch of the dried green substance. It was a stark contrast to the pottage as he dropped the Spice onto it. “That is all I can spare, I don’t know if Peter would want me to give you Spice. I’ve got to go.”

As he raced off back up the caravan train Oz offered Hazel the wine skin. “Thank you. Would you like any?”

The bigger man raised a hand in a pausing gesture. “No, you look like you need it more then I. Move away from the bars and eat.”

Ozpin awkwardly shifted into the middle of the wagon, this time he got no help from Hazel. He scooped the pottage with Spice on it straight into his mouth rather then risk missing a piece if he mixed it in. The cinnamon flavour of it made his body ache a little less. Turned his mind back to his wife, the ever-changing scent of Spice had started to cling to her. Though it had never reached those beautiful silver eyes.

“Are you really a Spice addict?”

The question shook Oz out of his daydream. “No. That bit I said about Spice being in everything is true, we use it as a preservative but I’ve never had the levels that would make an addict out of me. It’s actually pretty hard to do, at least in mages. Our magic protects us from most addictions. It does make me feel better though, I am used to a diet with it in it.” Ozpin set about eating the rest of the pottage with considerably less enthusiasm.

“Humf, and here we learn ‘A daily dose of Spice for long and ever-lasting life.’”

Ozpin scoffed. “Only if you can afford to take it for the rest of your life.” He had a sip from the wine skin. “What did you come from? I haven’t seen anyone else with shackles like those before and then there’s your appearance. Not that I am racist but giants aren't commonly heard of.”

Like a door the giant shut down, his eyes darkened. Oz pressed again even as his throat begged him to stop. “They have runes as well. You must be someone very important or very strong to be honoured with those.” The giant retained his silence and Oz sighed. “My name is Ozpin, will you at least tell me your name?”

“Hazel. Hazel Rainheart.” The giant said, his eyes tracking the carts movements. “You’re not so short yourself. I was led to believe the Fremen were of shorter stature.”

“They are. My father was a northerner, I get my height from him.”

Hazel hmmed and closed his eyes. Oz in turn took the chance to look around. He still felt so weak and the pottage was gone now. He didn’t recognize where they were heading and the sun continued its harsh burning on his tired dry skin. He swiped at his sweaty brow, just that action seemed to drain him and Oz felt as though every inch of his body was to sag into the floor of the cart. To starve off the exhaustion he cleared his throat. “Where are we going?” He wanted to learn to stay awake just for a little longer.

For a moment he thought Hazel had actually gone to sleep and not heard but then he grumbled out in a low voice. “A town probably. Have you never been this way?” The dark blue tunic was already sticking to the broad chest of the other man. Ozpin envied his skin, he didn’t look like he ever burned.

“I don’t think so. I hardly ever left the realm and the desert was my home most of my life.” Though he had not traveled much Oz remembered that Qrow said after he disappeared he had traveled a lot. It gave him some hope.

Hazel’s eyes opened the slightest bit, carefully taking note of the collar around Ozpin’s neck. “You’re a new slave.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Give it up.” The giant said gently. “There is no life for you now other then the one the Lord’s design.  I should know, I tried.”

“You tried to escape?” Oz awed.

“Many times. These shackles, they drain my strengths, my magic, the runes were placed there to impede my abilities. See those Oracles.” He pointed at the one eyed creatures flying above them. Oz nodded. “They project a beam of light, if you’re caught in it for too long you die.”

“I guess I’m lucky my magic has vanished on me. Otherwise I’d be shackled too.” Ozpin pressed a hand to side, the food wasn’t sitting well. The heat and wine, though it was mostly water from what he could taste wasn’t helping.

“You look like death warmed over.” Hazel rumbled.

“Feel like it too.” Ozpin rubbed a hand over is face again. “Gosh I’m tired. I hate this heat, it’s to moist.”

“The common word is humid. It does suck the life out of those not accustomed.” Hazel shifted leaning his thick arms over his calves just enough to pull his back off the bars. “Try to stay awake, it will only get worse if you sleep.”

“Speaking from experience?” Ozpin asked, he had half a mind to remove his tunic, the only downside is that he would burn.

“Yes. I’ve roamed over much of the world with Peter’s gladiator band.”

“When were you made a slave then? You do not look much older then I.” Oz asked.

“I was only a toddler. My people roam the southern plains in bands, we are well known for being strong and fast. I’ve worn chains ever since. One of the few places I have not been on this continent was the Overlords Domain. Seems I’ve missed the chance, magic mutates it now.” Hazel looked up to the sky. “One good thing about being Peter’s slave, I was never forced to stay in Empire City. The anti-magic shield makes even me ill, thankfully they weaken it over the arena. Magic can’t be very entertaining if the people with it are sick or dying.”

“I’ve never heard of anti-magic before. I was… caught in the explosion. That the Overlord caused, it threw me from my home and I guess that the soldiers found me. I don’t remember much beyond that.” Ozpin was still trying to put it altogether.

“I’ve heard a few stories like that.” He ran a hand through his thick beard. “Shame, I can understand that pain. Have you any family?”

That pain in his heart burned up his throat and he covered his mouth with a hand. Tears pricked at the corners. Out of habit he quickly caught them on a thumb and licked them up.

That made Hazel chuckled. “Well I have no doubt you spoke the truth about your upbringing. Are they desert foke as well?”

Oz swallowed thickly. “I.. I don’t know if… my wife was.” He bit down on a knuckled. “My wife was about to give birth before the explosion. I don’t know if she’s alive, if my child is alive or dead.”

Hazel finally showed some emotion. “I am sure they are fine. If you magic stays stunted maybe your bonds will remain lax so when it does return you will be able to escape.”

“I do not even know where my home is. This is all alien to me.” Ozpin turned his gaze back to the road out behind them. “I’ve slept so much even the stars are alien.”

“Do not lose hope, you’ll lose your health with it and where would that leave your wife?” Hazel had seen this too many times, if he could prevent it he would.

“Maybe I’d get to join her.”

“Or she still lives with your child. Working as a gladiator many people will see you, it’s possible someone that knows your wife will. That she’ll learn you live and find you. It will take time but don’t give up.” Hazel reached out and clapped him gently on the shoulder very aware of his strength.

The clattering chain made Oz shake his head. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had no one to talk to aside from that doctor.”

“I do not mind.” Hazel looked to the sky then the round. “Sleep while you have the chance then. Bart will look after you, he’s a good Doctor.”

Oz gave in at the prompting, laying down to curl on his side making himself smaller to give the giant more space. The wagon had been large but it seemed smaller now. Sweat soaked his bandages and made them itch but as soon as he closed his eyes he slept.

 

* * *

 

Qrow headed towards the chambers where he, Ruby and the babies lived, enjoying the quiet and lack of eyes following him with distaste. Sietch was quiet at night and he had gone to get more food and clean cloths for Amber and Leto. His feet hurried down the caverns before stepping through the curtain drawn over the entrance of their rooms.

Soft whimpers could be heard from the crib in the corner but Qrow’s eyes went straight to the figure that sat in the opening that served as a window. Ruby’s back was to him as she stared out into the night sky, her legs dangling outside the walls of Sietch. She heard Qrow come in, could smell the clean linen but her gaze remained still.

The air was cool, much too cool but she herself was numb to it. The dazzling light of the stars blinked back at her. Hands enclosed around her waist as Qrow effortlessly lifted her body up and back inside. Ruby made no protest nor any move closer. Not even the quiet coos of her children got through to her idled mind.

Qrow carried Ruby to the bed. She was freezing! Just how long had she been sat there for? She was going to get sick. As soon as he pulled back the sheets of the bed he deposited her limp body down, removing his own shirt and lay down next to her. At first he shivered from her cold form but she needed warmth. “Ruby? Why were you at the window? Talk to me please.”

Still she said nothing. Her eyes dull and blank drifted shut and Qrow pulled her closer. He needed to find a way to get through to her. Every day that went by she got weaker, thinner. Her luscious hair felt dried and brittle, dark bags grew under her eyes and her skin had lost that healthy rosy tint whenever she blushed or was happy. Oh Gods what was he to do?

Despite his worries and the stress of living in Sietch these past four months Qrow couldn’t fight the need to sleep himself and eventually succumb to a most needed rest.

The night crawled past, Qrow’s breath had been even for nearly an hour before Ruby moved in his arms. Gently and silently she lifted his arms away from her and slipped out of the bed. Her movements were just as silent as she made her way back to the window, drawing back the covers and sitting on the ledge.

By now some clouds had drifted over, blanketing the sky and hiding the stars from her eyes. Her heart felt heavy and she lifted a hand up towards the sky as if it could move the clouds away and reveal the twinkling lights. So many clouds, would there be thunder? Tears glittering on her cheeks fell as the memory of flying through the sky became vivid. The lightning that was Oz playing around her, her wings lifting her higher.

Ruby called for them now, she needed to be in the sky. The oppressive feeling in her chest was so heavy, unbearable. She whimpered reaching for her magic, her wings, begging them to come.

Nothing happened.

 

* * *

 

The town of Citrine was built up orange and white stone. A hand on his side woke Ozpin roughly and he shot awake only to pull his sides. “Oww.” Oz curled back into a ball, he blinked and looked up. Bart was kneeling beside him, Hazel already out of the wagon and waiting beside it.

“Can you stand?” Bartholomew asked.

Ozpin carefully pushed himself upward and with Bart’s help he got up. The doctor helped him out of wagon. The road under him was gravel and it took Oz a moment to realize the air was cool and that the sun had set. He glanced around and they seemed to be in some sort of town square. “Where are we know?”

“Citrine. Everyone will rest and the gladiators will provide entertainment before we leave in a few days. Come I will change your bandages. You as well Hazel.” Bart helped Oz walk a few steps.

Ozpin winced with each one, his feet were still tender. He rarely walked for any distance and no one saw any need to give him shoes. They walked into one of the buildings, it was cramped with rooms small and pressed up tight against each other. Oz saw other slaves already settling though their tunics were nicer then the ones that had been walking by his wagon so he assumed they were other gladiators.

The room he was taken to was a little larger then the ones below, two bed pallets on the floor and a table between them. Hazel took the one farthest from the door and was laying down resting shortly after. Laying Oz down was a much slower task. Bart gave Ozpin a water skin as he started to remove the bandages. “You look very unwell. Do you feel lightheaded? Or like their is a fog over your mind.”

“We call it dehydration and yes I am. The heat here is very humid compared to the desert. It is not a terrain my body is use to.” He said breathing a little heavier. The water skin was refreshing, his body all but soaking it up. Sweat continued to bead down his back and neck and when Bart lifted a hand to his head it felt cooler then his skin. He heard the muttered curse and raised his head.

“You have a fever. This is not good.” Bart complained and removed the last of his bandages and wincing. “Well that explains it. This whole side is inflamed. I am amazed at how you are still conscience.”

Oz looked down to his arm, it was horribly crusted over and bright red. Even as he lifted his other hand over it the heat emitting from the limb was intense. His body started to shiver despite the heat. Teeth clattering he fell to the side and large body quaking shudders ran through him.

“Damn it!” The Doctor cursed again and reopened his bag. “You have to fight this boy. Master Peter won’t give a damn about illness, if you’re lucky you’ll die here if not … well he has plenty of pets to feed.”

That was _very_ reassuring. Oz fought the shivers as Bart re-dressed his wounds and draped a think bare thread blanket over his body. “I’ll get you both something to eat and drink throughout the night. Both of you get some rest. I think our Master will want to you fight tomorrow Hazel ensure that leg heals.”

Hazel only nodded as Bart left, he looked at the shivering Fremen. He mused that Ozpin did not look very Fremen, he lacked the leathery dark skin and his stature was wrong. He was sure that the northern blood was strong in him. Perhaps he was Skallag Clan or maybe Balrok. Though Balroks were usually brown or red hair. Maybe Skorgan, he had the shoulders and hair for one of them. As he tried to guess at Oz’s father’s tribe Oz started to babble.

“I miss Tai, he’s a way better doctor.” Ozpin slurred into his pillow.

    The other man ran a hand through his thick beard. “Taiyang? The Hero? I’ve heard of him. Stories about him were all the rage when I was a child.”

    Oz nodded his eyes half open. “He’s my… dad kinda. I miss him, he was way better and fixing me up.”

    “I imagine your magic was not traumatized then, it was likely what did most of the fixing.” Hazel had a suspicion.

    Ozpin panted softly into the pallet. “I… I…” He drifted off his lungs working hard as his body fought fever.

    Bart returned to find Oz passed out again. He set the food and drink down on the table. “If he wakes help him eat.”

    Hazel nodded and closed his eyes to rest, listening to Oz pant into late into the night. He looked over to the younger man. “Hmm or maybe he’s a Paskaluom. Ears are pointed enough, to bad he probably doesn’t even have a word for snow.” Hazel chuckled to himself. “Should get some moon dust and see if he glows.”

    When next Oz woke Hazel was gone and he could hear fighting from outside. He didn’t feel as fevered, carefully he propped himself up to eat and drink what food remained before stumbling over to the window. Hazel was in the courtyard below, beating another man bloody. Ozpin settled into the window sill to learn just want his job would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ardy: Thank you too Celestialfae for your comment.


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